Free The Last Wicked Scoundrel by Lorraine Heath Page B

called it? She supposed she could see that, but not quite. And he might have once been ensconced among the dregs of society, but he had risen above that to a respected—and, in her mind at least—an exalted position. Surely he no longer used such crude references. She licked her lips. “What exactly does it entail?”
    “A boat, oars, the Thames.”
    “Oh, you mean actual rowing?”
    With a grin, he skimmed his finger along the bridge of her nose. “What did you think I was alluding to?”
    She was going to embarrass herself by admitting the truth. “Exactly what you said.” She was intrigued. “You truly go rowing in the morning?”
    “Whenever I can before breakfast.”
    Glancing over at the clock, she realized it was much earlier than she thought. “It must still be dark out.”
    “It won’t be by the time we get there. Come with me. I think you’ll find it’s a refreshing way to begin the day.”
    She thought doing anything with him would be a lovely way to start the day. “Yes, all right.”

 

C HAPTER S IX
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    W ith her pelisse folded closely around her, Winnie sat in the rowboat and watched in fascination as William worked the oars in a steady rhythm that caused the boat to glide smoothly over the water. She had looked in on Whit before she left, and he’d been sleeping soundly. On Winnie’s orders the day before, the governess had left the door to her apartments open so she could hear Whit if anything was amiss. Not that anything seemed to be. The fragrance of caraway seeds had faded, and she was questioning whether or not it had ever been there.
    Forcing the worries from her mind, she concentrated on enjoying her outing. Wisps of light fog along the bank were beginning to burn off as the sky lightened from black to gray. The scent of last night’s rain was still heavy on the air.
    Once she was settled in the boat, William removed his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, took the oars in hand, and set off. No leisurely rowing. His forearms revealed corded muscles, and she understood now the breadth of his shoulders, the firmness of his chest.
    “Whatever possessed you to take up this sport?” she asked.
    “One of Victoria’s advisors begins his day in a similar manner, and mentioned it to me. I’ve discovered an hour of strenuous activity clears my mind of its cobwebs. Sometimes, when I’m faced with a medical problem or dilemma, I find the solution will often come to me when I’m out here. I become lost in the exertion and it frees up my mind.”
    He stopped rowing, and they coasted to a stop. She became aware of the quiet and the solitude, absolute solitude as she’d never experienced it.
    Sliding from the bench, he sat with his back to it and extended a hand to her. “Come here, sit with your back to me. Just move carefully so you don’t tip us over.”
    The boat wobbled as she very slowly eased down and turned so she was nestled between his legs, her back pressed to his chest. He slid his arms around her, holding her near, and the heat of his body seeped through the layers of her clothes to create marvelous radiating warmth.
    “Watch the sky,” he said in a low voice near her ear.
    Leaning against him, tilting her head back slightly, she was acutely aware of his cheek resting against hers. Above the trees lining the banks, the sky was deep orange and pink with dark blue swirling through it. The clouds seemed luminescent.
    “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a sunrise,” she whispered with reverence.
    “It’s my understanding that most ladies stay abed until late morning.”
    “It does seem to be our habit. Oh, it’s beautiful, isn’t it? Magnificent.”
    They gazed in silence for several long moments. She relished his nearness, his holding her. She’d never been held simply for the pleasure of being held. There was comfort in it, an easing of loneliness without words. It was so peaceful. She was glad that William had stopped. Her soul needed these moments.
    “It rather fills